


Never Again

by ZiquilaLeo



Series: Naruto & Shikamaru As Childhood Friends [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst and Feels, Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Meeting the Parents, Misunderstandings, Pre-Naruto Canon Era, Scary Moms, Uzumaki Naruto Needs a Hug, scared naruto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 19:32:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18857653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZiquilaLeo/pseuds/ZiquilaLeo
Summary: Naruto follows Shikamaru home. What could go wrong? Apparently a whole lot of misunderstandings because of some horrible wrong timing.Sequel toA Nara's Perspective.





	Never Again

They were staring, mouths twisting oddly.

Most weren’t like the cold glares he was used to seeing, or the corner of lips tilted downwards without the snarling following after. 

The people Shikamaru led him through seemed different than the ones he’s usually had the unfortunate experience of meeting downtown.

He actually walked through a crowded place of what he thinks must belong to one of the clans of Konoha. He’d never been to this one. 

_What was Shikamaru’s last name again? Nada? Nala? Nara? Nara! Yes, Nara. Right…?_

“Don’t mind them. You won’t be turned away as long as you’ve been invited by one of the members of the Nara Clan. This is our compound. Most of the members in my clan are pretty laid back, though they do have sharp minds, so don’t be fooled by our lazy persona.” Shikamaru explains, still holding his hand in a firm grip. 

Naruto figures that’s permission enough to openly stare at the place swarming with people despite the cold weather, all of who has some similar physical features as his new friend. He hopes they’re all like Shikamaru and not like the rest of the villagers. 

He can’t see much of the Nara Compound since the snow is covering everything worth seeing. All he can really make out are the faint shapes of the houses, and the many thriving plants around them.

“There’s a lot of plants,” Naruto scans the variety of potted plants stationed outside the traditional houses, and also the ones planted in the ground tracing the walkways under all the snow. They’re a good distraction, easing his mind from the fact that he’s surrounded by too many (potentially dangerous) people. “They’re so full of life even though its winter, ya know.”

Shikamaru glances at him from the corner of his eyes. “Huh. You familiar with plants?”

“A little,” a blush creeps up Naruto’s neck as he confesses. “I take care of some at home. And I’ve seen a few of the ones here in the forest when I go…exploring.” He’s not really knowledgeable in the names and kinds of plants there are in the village. Just the ones he owns and dutifully takes care of: a cactus and a few other plants that produce edible fruits and vegetables. 

“Ah. Well, the Nara Clan specializes in growing medicinal plants, and then supplying it as our share of contribution for the village. We have the most land out of all the clans of Konoha so we still have a lot to spare, allowing our clan to profit off of it.”

“Uh…” Naruto’s head spins from trying to understand the large words and incomprehensible explanation. He doesn’t want to speak up and ask for the other to dumb it down for him and embarrass himself in front of his new friend because he hadn’t understood a word that was said. 

“We grow plants that can heal or poison people and give some to the village,” Shikamaru smiles awkwardly at him, a knowing glint in his eyes.

Naruto ducks his head, hands clenching, momentarily forgetting he was still holding onto the other boy’s own. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s stupid— _he’s not_. It’s just, sometimes, he needs a little while longer than others to understand something— _no, he isn’t slow either_. 

But, the feeling of shame bubbles up inside him at the knowing glance his friend sends him.

Sure, Naruto is different than the other kids, but that’s because unlike them, he hadn’t had a teacher or caretaker who took the time to help him through, let alone begin in most of his education, fueling him to skip class. His vocabulary is limited to what the villagers speak around him; which, essentially are mostly words he knows will only hurt people, his other sources being the other kids he hangs around with.

He’d just recently been transferred to another class, Shikamaru’s own, after failing the Academy Graduation for the second time. He isn’t sure Iruka-sensei would even help him if he spoke up about his difficult time learning academically, especially when the teacher once in a while stares at him with _those_ eyes when the older man thinks he isn’t aware.

Naruto will admit, inwardly, that he has trouble reading, writing, with his speaking skills not being any better. His unusually, unique accent is from horrible pronunciation and from learning to speak on his own, having to grow up with no one really wanting to talk to him—he hadn’t met Jiji until a while after he was kicked out of the orphanage—since he was a _demon_ , or so was the excuse. 

He lacked in the department many of his peers thrived in; even the worse of the bunch got positive attention more than him, and he doesn’t get any _at all_. 

Shikamaru probably doesn’t know—has yet to witness the villagers and grown-ups treatment towards him. 

He doesn’t want Shikamaru to know of the villagers’ hatred towards him, his relentless psyche and inability to do what most kids their age can, and many other things even he himself doesn’t know. 

Naruto doesn’t want Shikamaru to stare at him with _those_ eyes and leave him because he’s different. He wants to impress his friend, but how? _Perhaps, an awesome prank?_

“Here we are.” 

Naruto breaks out of his negativity to stare up at the large traditional house looming in front of them. He gulps. 

Shikamaru climbs up the wooden floor and slides open the front door, taking off his sandals, shouting, “I’m home! And I brought company!” He turns back to the blonde, nodding his head toward the inside of the building. “Hurry up before all the cold air comes in.”

Naruto staggers into the warm building while taking off his worn-down sandals, staring in awe at the neatly well-kept walls and floorboards. 

Footsteps thunder down the hallway, making its way towards their direction. “Shikamaru! I’m not finished talking to you young man! You're going to get it! I don’t care if you bring Choji over, you’re going to—“

No matter how many times he looks back at this moment later in the future, Naruto will deny he ever screamed at the sight of the Nara’s mother. 

He’ll admit he squeaked in fright, but in a manly, dignified manner and not a girly way.

Still, the brunet woman wearing a pink apron with a dark aura radiating off her, causes her to look more like the devil incarnate that swept into the front of them, dangerously waving a wooden spoon in one hand—did scare him. She made a terrifying sight with that blood-thirsty scowl and angry crinkles marring the corner of her eyes. 

For a heartbeat, Naruto thought she came for him, her wanting nothing more than to beat him to death with that wooden spoon because he was in her house. How she was finally going to finish what many of the villagers have wanted for a long time and failed to do—to get rid of him for good—since he was in _her_ territory. 

The sting of betrayal he felt towards Shikamaru didn’t really register in his mind in that moment, but he did feel it as much as the instinctive fear to run. 

So he did. He turned around and made to run, except he forgot one _tiny_ little detail. 

Shikamaru was still holding his hand, in a firm grip. 

Naruto for the first time wished someone wasn’t holding his hand. 

“Kaasan wait! You’re scaring him!”

Naruto couldn’t help but gape, unsure if he was horrified that the other boy would say that out loud to his mother, or wanted him to stay with that frightening she-demon, or both. 

The woman had frozen when her eyes landed him, spoon stopping mid-swing. 

“Let go,” Naruto nearly begs in a loud whisper, trying to yank his arm back. “I don’t think I should be here!”

Surprisingly and unfortunately for the blonde, Shikamaru isn’t as weak as he looks, even if he’s using both hands to keep the blonde from dashing off. 

“What’s going on?” A deep voice comes from behind the she-demon. 

Naruto freezes when a taller, much _bigger_ , grown-up stands beside the woman, no doubt Shikamaru’s father with that face. 

The man blinks down at him, eyebrows furrowing. 

Naruto really doesn’t want to stick around to find out what comes after the gesture even if the man’s shoulders remain slouched in a lazy manner. His mind chooses that moment to recount Shikamaru’s warning of underestimating his clan members. 

Naruto mentally curses himself for overestimating himself into thinking all Nara are different than the villagers. 

“I’m really sorry!” Naruto scrambles out to reply, his words coming out quick. “I didn’t mean to intrude! I’ll leave right away and won’t come back! Just please don’t hurt me!” He instinctively squeezes his eyes shut, preparing himself for whatever may hit him first—the wooden spoon or the man. He tries not to cry before the blows descend upon him.

In the past he hasn’t really been much of a victim to physical beatings aside from one occasion, and it was on his birthday no less, but that one time had been an horrible enough experience for it to be deeply engraved into his memory—a reminder just how far people would go to show their hatred towards him, and how much they’re holding back. 

This is his fault for thinking something good would happen with him following Shikamaru home, but he’d been wrong. The other boy’s parents are just like the rest. It hurts, and sure it’s no different than how his relationship with the rest of his former classmates was, but he assumed Shikamaru was different, because—because… 

Naruto doesn’t even know why the raven is different, and isn’t that embarrassing? He just latched onto the first kid who wanted to be his friend when there were no adults around. 

Pathetic. 

After a long moment of no beatings, Naruto hesitantly opens his eyes, peeking shyly through his eyelashes to the family-of-three. His vision is blurry, and he's unable to see their faces, he immediately realizes why. He’s crying. In front of Shikamaru. In front of _them_ —the grown-ups. 

His mind catches up to the present situation, noting that Shikamaru’s hold has gone slack. 

Good, he still has a chance to escape. 

“I’m sorry!” He bows hastily, and without wasting another moment, bolts out of the building and towards the direction they’d come from. 

“Naruto wait!”

He ignores Shikamaru’s shout after him. 

The snow is cold, the feeling of hundreds of needles prickling his feet temporary blocked from the fear coursing through his veins. He’d forgotten his sandals back at the Nara Compound. His bad luck has finally shown itself. 

He runs all the way to his apartment, bursting through his door and slamming it behind him. 

His body crumples to the floor, his breathe coming out rag and mingling with the choked sobs that rip from his throat. 

Naruto never felt so ashamed and embarrassed in his entire life. 

His hand clenches his chest, instead coming in contact with a cloth. He fists the ends of the grey scarf, his neck feeling boiling hot and his bluish feet freezing painfully. 

The image of Shikamaru’s mother storming towards them with a dangerous aura surfaces his mind, causing him to cry even more. 

Naruto felt absolutely terrified, still does, honestly believing he was going to die today by the clan who owned the most land and grew poisonous plants. He could still feel the lingering fear in his system, replaying the scene over and over again in his head. 

The tears don’t sting his eyes as much as the pain in his chest does.

Naruto cries for the duration of the day, until he’s nothing more than a snobby mess in front of his door. 

A wave of loneliness crushes him, weighing down on him with the force of the years of trying to keep on a brave face. He can feel the phantom cracks on his mask forming, reaching deeply through his skin and far into his soul. 

He remembers the group of drunk civilians on his fourth birthday which was a few days after he’d been kicked out of the orphanage, and how they’d _blamed_ him, _cursed_ him, _**hurt**_ him, and none of the other villagers came to his aide and instead joined in by throwing him objects that left him bruised for weeks. 

Naruto buries his face into the scarf, the scent of Shikamaru burning his nostrils and seemingly hurting him more. 

His mask aches from the burning heat melting it, from the cold freezing it enough to form cracks, making it feel heavier than ever before. 

Oh why, oh why, did he follow Shikamaru?

_Never again._


End file.
